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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25542049">First Name Basis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crow_coward/pseuds/crow_coward'>crow_coward</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Knives Out (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Elliot's first name is Thomas, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, They're married pre-Thrombley case</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:48:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25542049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crow_coward/pseuds/crow_coward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ma cher, how are you this fine evening?” Benny’s drawl came through loud and clear, albeit the man sounding dead on his feet. “I, myself, am doing spec-tacluar. Although-.”<br/>“Benny,” Elliott sighed, it was the same old spiel.<br/>“Now, now, I know what you gonna say, but this detective down here. He ain’t making no sense. I need a brilliant detective to help me solve this, ma cher, ya know.” Benny had asked and asked many times on many different cases all across the states. Elliott smiled to himself and chuckled softly while the other man tried to schmooze Elliott into coming help.<br/>--<br/>An anthology of Benoit Blanc and Thomas Elliot's life together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benoit Blanc/Lieutenant Elliott (Knives Out)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bed Time Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not that they know but shout out to celli for the only other Blanc/Elliott fic in the tag, go read it. As per usual, I wrote a fic to Lauren through text and she turned it into a word doc then I turned that into this. I'm going to say this is completed now but it might get more.... Lightly beta'd. Thanks Lauren for suggesting this but also proof reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Becoming a Detective was a dream of Elliott’s ever since he graduated college, he loved every minute of the mystery solving, finding the killer, bringing justice. The Thrombley case was a dozy. It was a long and spindly tale of dismay and betrayal of all members of the Thrombley clan. Benoit, Benny, Blanc loved it, reveled in the twist and turns, watching his husband work was always amazing, and sometimes hilarious, especially as he started in on one of wild goose chases. Sadly though, Elliott was stuck in Massachusetts while Benny was free to the next client.</p><p><br/>
There was a phone call at least every other night during the duration of the case, one every night he was traveling. No matter how late or early the call was, the only way Elliott didn’t answer is when he was with the family of a victim. Tonight, he was home and tucked up in bed by nine.</p><p><br/>
“Ma cher, how are you this fine evening?” Benny’s drawl came through loud and clear, albeit the man sounding dead on his feet. “I, myself, am doing spec-tacluar. Although-.”</p><p><br/>
“Benny,” Elliott sighed, it was the same old spiel.</p><p><br/>
“Now, now, I know what you gonna say, but this detective down here. He ain’t making no sense. I need a brilliant detective to help me solve this, ma cher, ya know.” Benny had asked and asked many times on many different cases all across the states. Elliott smiled to himself and chuckled softly while the other man tried to schmooze Elliott into coming help. “Now, I know Texas is a long way aways but I think you oughta be able-” Elliott listened to him detail out the rest of his plan for Elliott to fly down, help solve the case, and then take a lovely vacation to New Orleans before heading back to home base. He soon switched to the case he was involved in. A rather sentimental book of a particular book collector had gone missing, well and the book collector’s daughter. Benny was hot on the tale of the book, almost forgetting to add any details about the missing twelve year old, seemingly like she was hardly lost but just on a vacation somewhere. Elliott asked about her.</p><p><br/>
“The little lady is with the book, my dear,” was all Benoit said before rambling a homemade allegory involving a stand mixer used in baking which Elliott certainly did not understand. He continued to berate the local police department handling the case, something about they can’t tell their left foot from their right hand, calling them clueless in a roundabout way. The clock struck ten after ten p.m. on Elliott’s side of the world, Benny sighed.</p><p><br/>
“I miss you, Benny.” Elliott yawned sliding further down into the cool sheets of the bed.</p><p><br/>
“I’ll see ya soon, Thomas.”</p><p><br/>
Elliott smiled to himself as he heard the dial tone for a short second then silence from his phone. No one called him by his first name from teachers to childhood friends to work colleagues. Benny did. At the end of each call, he said his name in some private way just for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wrote Benoit Blanc as Cajun 'cause I somewhat know what Cajun accents sound like since my father is a Cajun man named Benny, although he's maintained very little of his accent since he's moved away, but visiting family off and on has provided this information. It's funky, I know, and a little strange to try translate from half mumbled mix of bad English and randomly misused French words to text, but I'm telling you that's what Cajun sounds like. They talk alot and say very little all the same.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Baggage Claim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We got some OCs in this chapter! We'll see if they reappear. Let me know if you want more of them! =) More sweetness.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elliot didn’t mind airports, not that he could say that he had been in too many as a passenger, typically only to pick someone up, his mom or his sister when they flew in to visit, or even a family related to a case he was working on. His mom loved seeing the fall leaves in the small town he lived near, walking from shop to shop, getting a taste of all the local pumpkin spiced pastries, and hot apple ciders. He was waiting for his sister, her and her daughter were coming up for the weekend, but also he was waiting for someone else.</p><p>	Thomas pulled out his phone, reading through department memos, memes, and shift changes for the beat cops. Nothing really of note to him, only really doing it to clear the notifications from his phone. It would back within the hour because that's how group chats and chain emails worked, a never-ending red dot of notification. </p><p>The someone else he was waiting for was in fact the one and only Benoît Blanc, famous freelance detective, mastermind behind solving the Thrombley family murder case, a modern day southern Sherlock Holmes, and most importantly Thomas Elliot's husband, a massive dork. Elliot may have read one too many articles on said man, most clipped out and stuck to the fridge by magnet until a new one was released. Some of the photo ops got framed, not that Benny paid any mind to them when he was able to stay more than a month at home, home being a small condo downtown. </p><p>“La petit cher, I must tell you now-” Benny’s drawl was easy to pick out in the New England airport. “We are gonna have a grand ol’ time.” Benny was hand in hand with Maya, who Elliot wondered if the sixteen year old was still going to think they were cool to hang out with, but the smile on her face, standing next to her uncle, told Elliot they would be just fine. </p><p>Gabrielle smiled as they walked up wrapping her baby brother in a hug, saying something teasingly about his facial hair, but stepping aside for Maya to greet her uncle. </p><p>"Uncle Thom, Uncle Ben said that you're gonna take us to the fall festival." She used the nickname she always used for him ever since she learned to say his name. Maya rocked from heel to toe, playing bashful; he knew she loved the festival and even if she was a teenager she still loved to be spoiled by her uncles. </p><p>Thomas put his hand up to his chin in a thoughtful position. "We'll see." Benny had a mischievous look in his eye as he watched them play. Thomas winked at Maya. "Maybe, I'm so so sooooo busy with work." </p><p>"You're not even funny." Maya laughed.</p><p>As they headed to baggage claim, Gabrielle and Maya leading, Benny took his husband's hand in his and smiled something small and special. </p><p>"Hello, Benny." Thomas smiled. </p><p>"Hello, Thomas."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Seriously thank you to all five kudos that this has. I love this ship even though I didn't think about it at first, so thank Lauren for this series. I'm on the tumblr @ https://crows-apothecary.tumblr.com/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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